Till I can make it on my own
by AAB
Summary: songfic


_Disclaimer: Not mine, Bellisario's_

**'Till I can make it on my own**

_Spoiler: Lifeline_

_10.00 p.m.  
Admiral's house  
_They talked. While the other guests enjoyed themselves in the living, chatting and laughing, they were on the porch, talking about the past, about their history together and a bit, just a little bit, about how things had gone so wrong.  
Then he kissed her. To be true, it had been she who kissed him first.  
It was meant to be a goodbye kiss. After today, her engagement party, nothing would be the same.  
It was meant to be a short kiss and then she would pull back.  
But he didn't let her. He followed her, still trying to fuse his lips to hers. And she allowed him. She couldn't say what would have happened if it hadn't been for Tyler, poking his head around the door and telling them to come in. The admiral was about to speech.  
Later on they stood next to each other. She and Mic. She and Harm. Her right hand in her fiancé's left hand, her left hand and Harm's right barely touching. But despite the much shallower contact it was her left hand that tingled and it had taken all of her willpower to concentrate on the words of the Admiral.  
She was glad the party was over soon after.

_11.15 PM  
Somewhere in Washington  
Mac's ca__r_  
She brushed off Mic. She needed to be alone, needed time to think. Aimlessly she drove through Washington, not paying any attention to where she was going.  
Suddenly she realised she was thirsty and decided to find a place to have a coffee or a soda. A few hundred yards away she noticed the neon sign of a bar. Pulling over she decided this a place was as good as any.  
She had never been here. Not surprisingly, not being a going-to-bars-type. Closing the door behind her she discovered it was an open-mike evening. The host was about to announce the next act. "Folks, we have a new talent to welcome tonight. Please welcome Harmon." Mac froze, it could not be...  
"What are you going to sing for us, Harmon?"  
"An old Kenny Rogers-song, "'Till I can make it on my own," an all too familiar voice responded.  
Mac knew she should leave, but she couldn't. She'd always loved to hear him sing and somehow she knew she was supposed to hear this song. Although there was no way he could know she was there, she had the distinctive feeling the song was meant for her anyway. During her bemusement he had started to strike the strings of the borrowed guitar and the first notes sounded to a captive audience.

_I'll need time  
To get you off my mind  
(and) I may sometimes bother you  
Try to be in touch with you  
Even ask too much of you  
From time to time_

Now and then  
Lord, ya know I'll need a friend  
Till I get used to losing you  
Let me keep on using you  
Till I can make it on my own

I'll get by  
But no matter how I try  
There'll be times you know I'll call  
Chances are my tears will fall  
And I'll have no pride at all  
From time to time

But they say  
Oh there'll be a brighter day  
But till then I'll lean on you  
That's all I mean to do  
Till I can make it on my own

Surely someday I'll look up and see the mornin' sun  
Without another lonely night behind me  
Then I'll know I'm over you and all my cryin's done  
No more hurtin' memories will find me

But till then  
Lord, ya know I'm gonna need a friend  
Till I get used to losing you  
Let me keep on using you  
Till I can make it on my own  
Till I can make it on my own...  


Long before the song was over, Mac's tears were streaming down her cheeks. Stumbling she found her way back to her car and sat, taking deep breaths to calm herself. When she had recovered enough to be no danger to herself and her fellow traffickers she drove of.

_1.45 am  
Mac's apartment  
_Back home Mac lit a couple of candles and made herself a cup of tea. Despite the late hour, going to bed was not an option, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Her mind was in turmoil, images from that fateful night on the ferry in Sydney mixed with Harm's words of that evening "Why did you run to him so fast?" and "He said we were all a bit in love with you. He was right." On top of it the lyrics of the song reverberated is her head, and the sadness with which Harm had sung them. What was she to do?  
A knock on the door jolted her out of her reverie. Tentatively she looked through the peeping hole and sighed. Mic stood on the doorstep. With another suppressed sigh she removed the chain, unlocked the door and let him in. He wanted to kiss her on the lips but she turned her head so the kiss landed on her cheeks.  
"What's wrong, luv? Why are you sitting in the dark?"  
"Nothing."  
She mentioned him to sit as well but he refused and in stead started pacing her apartment. She followed him wit her eyes till finally he stood in front of her. "I was here before. I was worried about you. But you weren't home. Did you go out to see Rabb?"  
"No, I didn't." She was glad she could honestly deny that. But then she ruined everything by whispering "but I ended up with him anyway."  
His head snapped up "What do you mean?"  
"I … I had to think ….. I just drove, "she started. "Then I realized I was tired and could use a drink, … a soda, " she elaborated in reaction to his pointed look. "I stopped at a small bar and it was open-mike night and he was there too. I didn't know... and I didn't speak to him. In fact, I don't think he saw me at all."  
"And?" Mic wanted to know, his voice eerily calm.  
"And nothing, I listened to his song and I left."  
Mic looked at her for long moments and then, satisfied with what he saw, he sat down in a chair opposite of her. "I believe you."  
Mac relaxed somewhat.  
"But we still have to talk."  
She nodded slowly. She should have known she wouldn't be so easily of the hook.  
"You have been absent-minded since your return from your discussion with Harm on the porch. What happened? Did he say something to upset you?"  
She shook her head.  
"Be honest, Mac," he warned her.  
"We spoke about out past together," she decided to tell.  
"Did he kiss you?"  
For a moment she was temped to say yes. To let him take the blame, the full blame for what has happened. But she couldn't.  
"Yes." she said. "But I kissed him first. It was meant to be a kiss of goodbye," she tried to defend herself, knowing is was only a small part of the truth.  
"But it wasn't," he pointed out.  
"No."  
"Did he force you?"  
"No!" Mac was shocked. "Harm would never force me. Or any woman as a matter of fact."  
Mic was silent for some moments. She saw the muscles of his face working, his jaw clenched and then he took a deep breath, as if he was gathering courage to ask the next question. The million dollar question, went through her mind.  
Mic opened his mouth. "Then, can you tell me, honestly tell me you don't have feelings for him? That you don't love him? That you wouldn't be with him, giving the opportunity"  
He was met by silence.  
"Can you?" he persisted.  
Slowly Mac shook her head. "No. I can't."  
His shoulders slumped momentarily before he squared them again.  
"Are you prepared to marry me and move back to Australia?"  
For a second Mac's anger flared.  
"That has been your goal all along, hasn't it? To take me with you to Australia?"  
"Yes. You knew I wanted to go back." He raised his hand to stop her from reacting.  
"But I was prepared to stay here, in the States. For you."  
He sighed.  
"I can't. Not like this. Not as long as he is here. He would stand between us. Even if he tried to keep his distance..." his eyes flickered. "I know he would try, for you. Even as we don't get along well, I have to admit he is a decent man. But he would be there, he would be in the middle. The only option is to create distance, a lot of distance. So, I ask again: are you prepared to marry me and move to Australia?"  
Mac didn't answer.  
He looked at her, first patiently, giving her time to make the live altering decision, then with growing defeat.  
"Mac?" he pushed.  
She preserved silent.  
Mic rose to his feet.  
She didn't move, except from one tear trickling down her cheek.  
Mic reached in his pocket, retrieving his keys. He removed the one of Mac's door and placed it on the table, along with his engagement ring.  
"Then I guess this is it. I'll arranged for my stuff to be picked up."  
For a moment it seemed like he wanted to touch her, kiss her farewell but then he turned and headed for the door. At the doorstep he hesitated for a moment, a last chance for her to stop him. When it didn't happen, he walked on.  
She heard the sound of his footsteps fade away and sat back on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, a pillow clutched in her arms, tears running down her cheeks once again. And she still sat there, long after the candles had extinguished and her tears had dried out.

The end

_No, there is no sequel, nor one in the making, so don't ask._


End file.
